One week of hell
by TroubleInParadise
Summary: Charis and friends, adventure 1. It starts with a seance and goes screwy from there. Not finished.
1. In which we hold a seance

I hate my life, seriously. I mean, I just want to be a normal teenager; get in fights with my parents, maybe find a boyfriend and possibly sneak out the night before finals to party. You know, normal stuff. But no. I have to end up _here_ of all places. I live in suburbia, my mother works in an office and my father works in the garage. My little sister never leaves her room except for dance class and my little brother (her twin for those of you who give a care) is never in his room except to sleep and every now and then recuperate from a skateboard injury. And me, you might ask. Well I'm getting to that. This whole story is about me, I'm taking a bit of time on other people. Soon enough you'll know how completely and totally self-centered I am.

Other players on the chessboard (don't look at me, ask my father who has way to much time on his hands) include my best friend and neighbor Julie A. Starlett, the biggest tomboy I know and my best guy friend, my other neighbor, Joshua B. Carson, the biggest klutz I know and, ironically, my brother's idol. Billy (that would by my brother) worships the ground Josh walks on (when he's walking, usually he's flying and then falling) because Josh (klutz as he is) is actually a really good skateboarder. Sammy (that would be my little sister) hates Julie and I swear that she doesn't even remember I exist. I don't even register on her radar. She's _twelve _for gosh's sake! But I am not a dancer so I do not exist. This is the world I live in.

It all started during the summer (and ironically enough it still is summer, hard to believe its only been a week). Julie and I had climbed over to Josh's (all the roofs connect but the last time Josh tried to get to Julie's he broke his arm) and we were sitting there surrounded by candles in the dark. "Are you sure we should do this?" Josh asked. I shushed him and turned to Julie, "Do you have the incantation?" I asked. She nodded. Now, don't get the wrong idea. None of us are into the occult or anything. But you see, our English teacher (Ms. Coretta, nicest woman alive) had given the kids in class who wanted it a summer project for when we got bored. Julie's was to try a séance and then write something, anything about it. When she turns in her report she'll get extra credit. Josh and I had decided to help her (of course) and so here we were at twelve midnight, in Josh's room, freaking each other out.

I looked around and made sure we had everything. Then I turned to them and nodded. Each dipped their hands in the copper bowl in the middle, filled with ice water, for the curious. Then Julie took a sage stick and dipped it in honey and Josh took a lavender stick and dipped it in warmed milk (apparently we were calling a grandmother spirit). I, the séance leader and drawer of the short stick, dipped my hands in the water and then took both sticks of incense and light them with the purple candle in front of me. I handed them back to Julie and Josh and then, as the sticks burned low, I read the incantation. "_By the powers that be, I set you free. Come to us, oh spirit, I beg of you please. We wish to commune with you, by the Spirit of Truth. We wish to see you by the Spirit of Clarity. We wish to walk with you as a sister of spirit, a brother by bond. And as we have called you so will we send you back to eternal peace when we are through. By sage and lavender, by honey and milk, by the water that has taken you back we call out to you. By the powers that be, I set you free._" And then I burned the paper and threw the last of it with the vestiges of the incense in the copper bowl. Quickly the three of us blew out the seven candles, purple, yellow, green, red, blue, white and black.

Now here is where things went very, very wrong.


	2. What came out of the candles

Okay, assuming I kind of understood what I was doing, we were supposed to blow out the candles, sit in darkness for a second, laugh and then turn on some lights and continue with our night. This is where things deviated from the planned schedule. Instead of us sitting in quiet darkness for a couple of minutes…

WARNING: The next part of the story is incredibly cliché

… But instead a ghostly purple light began emanating from the candles. We all three stared at the light as it slowly formed into a person-shape. Now, I am as skeptical as they come, but you have to admit, I had hard proof right there in front of my eyes that something supernatural was happening. I heard Julie gasp but the slowly forming thing distracted me. I realized slowly, about as slowly as it was forming, that it was male. Young and male…to tell you the truth I did not mind what I was seeing as I slowly was able to make out the very muscular (and shirtless) torso and soon very easy on the eyes face of our mystery ghost. This was seriously not a grandma ghost. "What do you want?" He asked.

Now imagine the best thing in the world that you've ever heard. Now magnify that by twelve and you'll have this guy's voice. I think I even heard Josh sigh and Julie and I have first hand experience of Josh's straight-ness (let's just say Suki, Josh's ex-girlfriend, was very into the PDA and Julie and I got front row seats to all the shows. I shudder to think what happened behind closed doors). To me it sounded like (and some of you are gonna have to broaden your horizons here a bit) my grandma's chocolate chip cookies baking and my favorite teddy bear that used to belong to my Uncle Richard and smells like a combination of him and my mom, two of my favorite people in the world beside my friends (and yes, I do see the pattern, but I'm sensitive to smell). Julie said later that he sounded like a masculine version of her mom, now dead for five years. Josh didn't say what he sounded like, but I'm assuming a memory of Suki came into it from the look on his face. We were all stopped in our tracks by that voice. It was hypnotic and sensitive. Open and closed all at the same time. And really incredibly irritated.

"W—what?" I finally pulled myself enough together to ask. He turned and I felt the full effects of his glare, but I was distracted yet again by his bare chest and his unbearably sweet voice, "I asked you what do you want? As in, why the hell did you call me away? I was winning a game of poker!" I was surprised enough to give a coherent answer, "They play poker in the afterlife?" At his intensified glare I painfully pulled my thoughts together, "That's not the point, Of course. The point is…hey guys, did we even have a point?" This guy looked dangerously close to boiling point so I hoped either Julie or Josh would snap out of it fast. "Oh, yeah." Surprisingly enough it was Josh who answered. I was fully expecting Julie. He thought for a moment and then he said the most genius, yet stupid thing that I've ever heard in my life, "We're running a poll. How did you die?"

If I knew it wasn't possible I would swear the room exploded with his anger (or perhaps the purple smoke-like substance he was made of). "Are you kidding me?! You pulled me away from a winning hand to ask me how I died?" I kept the ready-made comment to myself ("What were you going to win exactly?") and instead focused on the guy for one. Not his face, his body or his voice; him. "You're our age aren't you?" It was a random question straight out of left field, literally since Julie was sitting to my left. For some reason his face softened, "Yeah…yes I am. And the way I died…" But he couldn't say anything else because of the big boom and yellow smoke that occurred.


	3. Some questions are answered, most aren't

When I looked up I couldn't see anything, still blinded from the flash of light that accompanied the sickly yellow smoke. By the time my eyes had accustomed to the darkness again all that was left of the weird explosion was the smell of burnt plastic and a hissing laughter. I looked at the guy (who I only now registered was purple, I mean, he was made out of purple smoke, sure, but I hadn't seen it before) and asked, quite calmly for the situation, "What was that!?" Which is to say I wasn't calm at all. He shook his head and said, in that amazing voice, "I don't know."

And then suddenly he was growing fainter and fainter, because the purple smoke that made up _him_ was only coming from three of the seven candles. From the other four, a soft golden light was shining and forming in a shape that was familiar…a shape that I'd seen before. Suddenly, it hit me.

Flashback: _I'm walking on the beach, parallel to the waves. There's no one else here but there are animals _everywhere_. Seagulls scream overhead, without making a sound, incredibly close to the beach a dolphin surfaces to breath, blowing water everywhere. By my feet a crab scuttles sideways, trying to escape from some imagined enemy. And then I realize what is wrong. I can't here the gulls, the dolphin, the waves or the wind blowing the beach grass at the top of the beach. I can't hear a sound. I stop and step closer to the waves, letting them wash over my feet, hoping they might wake up my senses. But they don't. I try to make a sound. And I do, I can feel words and emotions coming out from my throat, but I cannot hear a thing. It is then that I realize that I am deaf, I cannot hear at all. But then I feel a presence behind me and turn around I see _her_. She is so beautiful and she fills me with peace and I just know that if she speaks I will hear her. But she doesn't, she just beckons for me to follow_…and then I woke up.

I've had multiple dreams like this within the past year, where I'm deaf, or mute or blind. And then she is there and I know that if she wants I can hear or speak or see. But she never does, she never asks what I cannot do. And it pains me every time. But now, here she is, made out of a pretty gold light, coming from four of the candles. I stare, speechless. I can feel Josh and Julie beside me and I reach out blindly for their hands, hoping that I'm possibly dreaming again. "You are not dreaming, Charis." (Hi, that's me. I don't think I've actually told you that yet!) My voice is unsteady as I ask, "Then who…what…why is this happening? Who are you? What is going on?" Julie and Josh murmur something soothing while the purple guy says, "I second that. What happened Alisa, and why are you here?" Alisa, that's a pretty name. Again she reads my thoughts, "It is only one name that I am known by. But as for your questions, I can answer only few. You must answer the rest. I can tell you that the yellow smoke was a rouge spirit."

The purple went pale, if that's at all possibly. The words even caused me to shiver. "What is that?" Josh asked. I was surprised again, Josh is not usually the first to answer or speak or make any sound at all. He's usually actually kind of shy. Alisa turned to him and smiled, "It is a spirit who is not happy with the after life, and wishes to escape it. You might call it…a ghost or a haunting. Now, this spirit will not find what it is searching for on earth, for all that is has known is gone. It will become angry and violent and then, it will search you out, knowing that it was you three who opened the portal for it to leave. It will wish to harm you, or make you send it back. What you must do is find it before it becomes violent and talk to it, convince it to come home. If that cannot be done you will have to trick it into coming back. And for that you will need a spirit guide."

"Damien," She turned to the guy, "I know you do not wish to do this, but you will do as I ask and help these three find the spirit and contain it if necessary. That is your job. If you do this, I will owe you a favor." His protest died on his lips and he merely nodded. Alisa nodded as well, satisfied, and muttered some words. Damien's purple smoke solidified and broke off from the candles. Alisa turned to us, "Only you will be able to see Damien. He will guide you and give you information, as you need it. But only," Her voice became dangerous and she gave Damien a look, "if you truly need it. To help you begin, the spirit is Maggie Cummins, twenty-four. She was hit by a car while crossing the street sixteen years ago. She was engaged to Lewis Nicks, now married with three children. And this is a warning, Maggie is a volatile spirit, she may try to harm Lewis and his wife before she comes searching for you. You must not let this happen, for if she enters that dark path there is no turning back. Damien has an incantation to help you see other spirits if it is needed. This is all I can give you." And then she was gone!


	4. The strange thing in the kitchen

"I hate it when she does that." Damien grumbled. It was completely dark again but none of us could actually move to turn the light on. "What just happened?" My voice was dazed as I asked the question. I felt, but did not see for I was still staring vaguely at nothing, Julie shake her head, "I think…I think we just conducted a séance, called a purple guy here, let out some chick made of weird yellow smoke and then got told by a different chick made out of gold that we need to catch the first chick with the help of the purple guy." I felt Josh nod his head on my other side, "I think she's right. I think we just crossed the line of reality all the way over into oh-my-god-how-is-this-happening. I think." Slowly we all turned to look at Damien. He shook his had, "Don't look at me." We continued to stare and he sighed, "Yes, alright! That's what happened." He wandered over to the wall and tried to turn on the light. Tried being the operative word here, his hand went right through the switch. He growled, I swear to god he growled with impatience and turned to us, "Could one of you turn on the light please? I stop being as purple." At that I scrambled to get to the light. It was just too weird seeing him purple, I also really wanted to find out what color his eyes were.

When the light was on Damien lost most of his purple tinge and actually started to look more real. Well, his eyes stayed the same color purple, the same color my eyes were, but besides that he looked like any guy with chocolate brown hair and a nice smile and…oh, he still wasn't wearing a shirt. "Is that your real eye color?" My mouth asked while my brain was set on a repeat loop "not wearing his shirt, not wearing his shirt" over and over and over again. He nodded, "Yeah, it is. Is it your real eye color?" My mouth answered, my brain was still looping around, "Yeah. I got it from my grandmother's grandmother. She had purple eyes too." I felt Julie come up beside me and I was startled when she shoved the copper bowl, still full of ice water and _really_ cold in my hands. "Could you take care of this?" She asked sweetly, and then in Chinese (it's a long story, trust me when I say you don't want to hear it), "And if you were to stick your head in and stop drooling over spirit boy that would be great." Finally my mind snapped out of the loop and I answered back, "Well if you get him a shirt, that would help." And yes, for those of you who were wondering I did say it so that he couldn't understand. I've had enough practice saying it in English and embarrassing myself that I finally cut myself of the habit. Damien looked between the two of us and then at Josh, "Do you understand them?" He shook his head as he gathered up the candles, "Not at all, my friend, not at all."

By the time I got back from dumping the water out and storing the copper bowl in its right place Damien had be dressed (how? You might ask. I really don't know and I never actually got around to asking). "Well, I think our evening is shot." (Not that one in the morning counts as evening but they all knew what I meant) I said when I got back upstairs. Julie, now totally and completely back to herself, smiled and said sarcastically, "Ya think, Charis? By the way, I know you've already been introduced but, Damien, meet Charis. Charis, I think you know Damien. It's been decided that, for now, we're going to get some sleep and we'll meet at Head Quarters tomorrow." I nodded and opened the window, "I'm all for that. Shall we?" She smiled and climbed out, "We shall." And with that we were gone.

Now, all this happened on Sunday night. That's a lot to happen in one day, right? Well Monday was _so much worse_. It didn't start out all that bad. I woke up and showered. Brushed my teeth, ate my Luck Charms. Then I had a second bowl of my all time favorite, Coco Crispies. I mean, they're chocolate rice crispies, who wouldn't love them? Sammy came in and, like normal, completely ignored me. When Julie entered in baggy camouflage cargo pants and a black baby-T that had Jailbait printed on the front of it I heard a snort of derision but nothing else. I felt a little hurt but I'd gotten used to it. When Billy came into the kitchen and saw Julie and I he opened his mouth to ask the obvious question we both shook our heads and said, "No." at the same time. He sighed, dejected, and left the kitchen, presumably to go skateboard. It's not like he did anything else.

And suddenly my mother was in the kitchen. I did a double take when she came in wearing jeans and a sweater instead of a suite and pearls. Rose _is_ cooperate America. She keeps insane hours so I almost never see her at home, even on the weekends. And when I do see her she is on her way out the door. And yet, ironically enough, it is my father's sculptures that bring in most of the income. Not that I'm actually supposed to know that, but I overhear things. Anyways, the point is that it was incredibly surprising to see Rose in the kitchen dressed like…well, like a normal person. "Hey, what's up?" I asked. She looked at me for the first time (what, am I invisible to the other females in my family?) and said distractedly, "Oh, you're up. Good. I have some things I need you to do…" I rinsed out my bowl as I shook my head, "Sorry Rose, but I've got other plans. Kind of important plans, really. Why don't you send Billy? I think he finally figured out how to attach a basket to the back of his skateboard, he could get whatever you need." That's complete bull but she didn't know that and Julie wasn't about to tell her. "Come on Jules, let's go." I grabbed key chain and clipped it onto my jeans and headed toward the door.

Now, if I had Julie's luck I would have made it out the door. But since I'm me and not her, my luck is my own, not her's (try and figure that one out). "Charis Lee, are you really wearing that? In public?" Rose's voice was aghast. I turned to look at her and then down at what I was wearing. Regular jeans, a silver chain belt, calf-length boots (which she couldn't even really see) and a baby-T, black like Julie's, but mine said There's nothing for you here. It was the clothes I wore all the time (well obviously not all the time, but most of my outfits were variations on the theme). "What's the problem R—mom?" My voice held incredible patience, it was the usual voice I used when speaking to Rose. She wrinkled, "That shirt is…and your shoes are…and those jeans…" I rolled my eyes (by the way the three words she couldn't actually say were, unkind, scuffed and ripped) and pulled Julie through the door, "Sorry mom, there's nothing I can do…" About your problems that is. But I didn't say that. Instead I got out of the house as fast as I could.

So the first, like, thirty minutes of my day were fine and dandy. The next ten weren't so great, though. Julie and I took our time to get to head quarters and I spent the walk taking deep breaths to calm myself down. I didn't want to snap at Josh who for some reason seems to be my favorite target when I'm less than happy. Julie looked at me when we reached HQ, "Are you okay to go up there?" I sighed and nodded. I'd have to be. This was really important. Too important to miss or mess up.


	5. Where there is a guessing game or two

I am in love with Head Quarters. No, I'm completely serious; I'd marry it if I could. But…I can't so that's beside the point. It's not really over the top, but it has two good-sized rooms, ventilation and actual doors and windows that actually worked. We'd put in some furniture and it has an outhouse. Oh, yeah, it's a tree house. I didn't mention that, did I? As I climbed the ladder I again thought about what a good thing it was that when we were exploring one day we found it. Nobody claimed it and so it quickly became HQ. And have I mentioned that I love it?

We got up there and saw immediately that Josh and Damien were already there. Damien, and no, I still did not ask how, had changed clothes. Well, and so had Josh but that goes without saying. Both were hunched over a familiar and battered white laptop. I heard muttering, "Maggie Cummins." Before Damien noticed (felt, sensed…?) our presence and looked up. "Hey, we already started looking. Hope that's okay." Julie laughed at Damien, "Oh how gentlemanly. Yes Damien, we're fine." He turned red (still tinged a little purple, but not quite as bad). Suddenly Josh gave a loud AHA!, for which Josh was inalterably known. Julie and I took out our own projects and sat back. Whenever Josh gives an AHA, he's onto something big but if you bother him, he'll bite your head off.

I had just pulled my book out when Julie jumped me. I swear to god, sometimes it seems as if the girl has ADD or ADHD or some other acronym that means she can't focus. "Guessing game." She said. I sighed. Julie likes to play guessing games. She doesn't actually care what type of guessing you were going to do, so long as you were guessing. I thought for a second, "Why Rose was all dressed up." (Which is not necessarily correct. She was dressed down which for Rose is dressed up. But ah, semantics). Julie thought for a second, "Maybe she's being sent on an undercover thing." I gave her a look, "Julie, my mother works in accounting. She's the over-worked, under-paid lackey of some big manager person. Guess again." She frowned in thought, "Maybe she's cheating on your father and she's stopped trying to hide it." I gave it maybe a moment of thought, "Did you see the way she freaked out about my clothes? She'd dress even more for another guy." Notice I didn't ditch the notion that she was cheating, just that she was dressing up (down) for it. The game continued on for a time, guesses ranging from the insane to the slightly possible. "Maybe she's going to commit murder and she doesn't want anyone to recognize her." I didn't throw that one out because it actually made sense. I wouldn't have recognized her if we hadn't been in our kitchen.

But the party pooper ruined our game, "Maybe it's none of your business. Because your business is Maggie." Josh has never liked the guessing games. Then again, he's been playing them longer. You see, Josh and Julie have lived in 209 and 213 Watercress Lane for all their lives. Literally in Julie's case because her mother did home birth. I only moved in to 211 when I was ten, meaning Josh has had ten years (so to speak) of guessing games as compared to my six, so he has a right to get irritable.

"Bingo. Ladies, we have hit pay dirt. I hold before a machine that has a bio of Maggie Cummins, her obit included, five different articles about her death, the marriage announcement for Lewis Nicks and Katie Lei, best friend of the former Ms. Cummins. It also has the current address and phone number of Lewis, Katie and also Lisa, Toby and, get this, Margaret. Who names their kid after their dead best friend?" Josh likes to show off and pull up multiple computer screens. This is what I assumed he had done but, lo and behold, he hadn't. Someone had actually made a site about the life and times (and afterlife and –times) of Margaret "Maggie" Sarah Cummins. It was a bit creepy. "Okay, so who votes we talk to this…Violet Star before bothering the happy couple and offspring?" All three of them raised their hands and with a few clicks of the mouse we were on our way to visit Tammy Richards, otherwise known as Violet Star, postmortem stalker of Maggie Cummins.

"What is it you are asking me, specifically?" The small brown woman in front of us asked. Tammy was short with cocoa brown skin, warm brown eyes and elaborate, you guessed it, brown hair. I sighed and gave her Plan B, which was "Charis BS's our butts out of suspicion." Sadly, this is always Plan B because we are under suspicion a lot of the time. Luckily I'm a great BS-er. "You see, we are doing a recent history project over the summer, our teacher's have no imagination, and when Josh found your site we were just fascinated. It has everything. It's relatively recent but it does impact us. It's not national or international and it has that dramatic edge to it. We just came by to ask why you started this website since you don't seem to have known Maggie, and where you got your information because we need ten sources." There, I thought, that should take care of it. And if Tammy had been any other person it would have.

"That was very good my dear, I must applaud you're creativity. But I know why you're here. You need to find Maggie Cummins before she does something she'll regret. That's why I set up the site, my spirit guide told me it might help. Now, would you be kind enough to introduce me to the young man who has just recently wandered into my kitchen?" We stared at the woman in front of us and I suddenly realized that I couldn't place an age on Tammy, which is what you hear about the wise person who helps our hapless heroes who, on occasion, are complete idiots. Tammy seemed to fit the roll, but I hate to stereotype. So I pulled myself together and barely chocked out a "Damien!"

He came back into the living room and said, "Hey, so what did you…" He trailed off as he saw Tammy still sitting there. "Why is she still here?" He asked, rudely I must admit. Though we did surprise him, "Hello, you must be Damien. We haven't been formerly introduced but I'm Tammy. Most spirits call me Violet Star. I'm a human guide, for the funky details you spirit guides can't help with." He shook his head slowly, "Well isn't that the luck." He smiled broadly and looked about ready to kiss Tammy, or Violet I guess, "I'm Damien, Spirit Guide of the Third Dimension," Whatever that meant. Violet nodded calmly and said, "Okay, here's what you do."

We left a half hour later, knowing fully our plan of action. "That was a good tale you spun me, but to talk to Lewis you'll have to use a different tactic. Tell him that you are studying PTSD, post-traumatic stress disorder, and though you realize it is painful, would he be willing to tell you about the experience of his fiancé dying. Be kind and if he tells you to f$ off, the f$ off. That's when you change tactics again and talk to the wife. But start with Lewis, he'll be the obvious target." There had been more, more than I could have ever have imagined (had I, you know, spent time imagining my life as a ghost hunter…) Then Violet gave us cookies and sent us on our way, but made us promise to wait until the next day. We didn't ask why but trusted her. Remember, our hapless heroes can't be complete idiots or the day will never be saved so we have to listen to good advice some of the time. I'm glad that she told us that, though. Because it became apparent that I didn't want to miss what was happening at home, right at that moment.


	6. A big part of the reason I hate my life

The four of us filtered into my house, not warily, as we might have if we'd know, but expectantly, still waiting for the other ball to drop (what does that really mean anyways?). And here is what we found in the kitchen. There was a blonde stranger, IN MY KITCHEN. Now, I am normally a calm person but strange people where they shouldn't be just kind of freak me out. I stopped, and everyone behind me stopped. "Who are you?" Julie supplied the words screaming in my head. And that's when I got my first look at _her_. I'm surprised she didn't have devil horns and a tail. Blond hair, baby-blue eyes and that "kiss me I'm an angel" smile, I knew she would be trouble right from the start. I hate people with that "kiss me I'm an angel" smile. They just plain bother me. Her gaze skipped right over me to Josh and then finally settled on Julie, the one who had spoken in the first place. "I'm Candy, you're cousin. I'll be staying with you for the rest of the summer."

Okay, it is officially official (and yes I realize that was redundant, STOP CARPING ABOUT MY WRITING STYLE!!!) that I am invisible to all the female members of my family. Because, seriously, I really don't think "Candy" even registered my presence until I said, "I don't have a cousin named Candy. I have a cousin named Sierra, but not Candy." She gave me an annoyed look, "My _real_ name is Sierra, but I _prefer_ Candy." Now, this is the great thing about friends, if I'd been alone I would have had to keep quiet but when, all at the same time, Josh, Julie and I burst out laughing, I had back up _and_ witnesses. Even Damien was laughing a little because, seriously, no one can keep a straight face when you tell him or her that you _prefer_ to be called Candy. When I finally had control of all my faculties I asked, "So _Candy_, what are you doing here? Don't you live in California or something?" She nodded and opened her mouth to answer, but before she could my mother came into the kitchen and answered for her, "I went to pick her up at the airport this morning." I can practically hear the 'Which you would have known if you'd bothered to listen.' Tacked onto the end. We all can. She continues, "Candy is going to be staying with us for the rest of the summer. You two will be sharing the room."

Now, my biggest issue (and yes I realize I have many of them) is sharing space with people. My space bubble, unedited, is seriously large. Of course, due to natural and daily human contact I have had to get over myself and for the most part I have succeed. But my room is _my space_, the one place that even Josh and Julie ask if they can enter, even if its snowing and they're at the window in a wet swimsuit (it was fourth grade and it's a long story). And my mother just casually allowed a stranger to _live_ there for months! My mouth hung open for a second and then my brain started working again, past the shock, to come up with a dozen arguments. But my mother, frigid as she is, said, "Or you can share a room with your sister. Charis, this is not up for debate." I was so shocked for a second the world went white, then black and then back to normal color. But I wasn't going to take this lying down. "Sure _mother_," as if that's not the word I actually want to say, which it isn't, "I'm staying at Julies tonight." Because I'd felt her subtly tap the palm of my hand behind my back to let me know it was okay. "I'll see you in the morning. Candy, welcome to the house." Then I turned around and stalked upstairs, faithful entourage in tow.

There _should_ be some sort of limit to how much luggage it is legal to bring into someone else's room and plant there, but sadly there is not. Which is why I found five; count them FIVE, huge suitcases full of clothes in my room. That's not the count the three medium suitcases filled with other crap such as make-up and magazines. I looked at all this stuff, already strewn all over my room and took deep breaths, trying not to scream. It worked, but only barely. And when Sierra, of excuse me _Candy_, came in it was only the feeling of Josh's hand on my arm that kept me from hitting her. I realize I have a temper, but imagine what it feels like to have someone totally move in on your space, without even asking. "Candy." I said sweetly, sort of like a poison apple, "Here's the deal. You can empty your suitcases. I will then fill said suitcases with my clothing and miscellaneous things. You may then take over my room in whatever fashion you wish, short of repainting the walls or damaging any of my stuff. You can have this room all to yourself except for one week in," I looked over at Julie and she said, "June." I nodded and turned back to Candy, "June." I will be taking my comforter and pillows as well my clothes and everything else. If you have any problems with this let me know now because you probably won't speak with me again." She looked stunned but shook her head and I nodded, "Good. Now, let me help you unpack."

We worked in silence for the next ten minutes to unpack all her things into the room and then the five after that for me to empty my drawers indecorously into two of the large suitcases (I don't really have all that much stuff). I then packed on medium suitcase full of things I didn't trust in a room alone with Candy and then I can one suitcase each to Josh and Julie. "We're going." I said, "Have fun and if you mess up anything in my room I will come after you like a wolf scenting prey. If you need me I'm just a roof top away." And then we left.

Or tried to. At the last minute Candy finally found her voice, "There's a floating purple thing behind you?" This was half a questions, half a statement. Luckily I was still feeling pissed off enough (you know that icy feeling that takes over after the initial burn?) to not even blink. "Please, try to waft the smoke of the drugs _out_ the window. I don't want my room smelling like that." And then we really did leave.

After Julie explained everything to her mother (Grace is the ultimate mother by the way, not perfect but she never claimed to be. And she is like the mother I never/don't actually had/have.) and got the okay for me to sleep there until the end of the summer (excluding that one week in June for their family trip) we went upstairs to take in what had happened. I, for one, was still in shock. Well, about Candy, and also that she could see, to a point, Damien. This was not good. Not in any dimension or time period could this ever have been good. But then, that might have been why I'd been feeling so much dread lately.


	7. The grieving husband

I feel like it is my duty to mention that Grace is not Julie's mother, she is her stepmother. Julie loves Grace like her mother, but I know that deep down she misses Lilah. But Grace is truly awesome. She understood totally when Julie told her that I would be sleeping there. But really that's all the extra time I spent there. I didn't want to impose on them so I snuck back into my house to shower, eat breakfast and eat dinner. My parents, for all I know, didn't notice I was gone.

The next day I brush passed Candy as I went out the door. The three, four, of us were going to ambush Lewis, Maggie's ex-fiancé, at work, thinking for some reason that maybe he might be more susceptible there than at home. It doesn't make sense, I know, but that's the way we were thinking. Josh was actually the one who had gotten us the appointment with Lewis at his office, but once we were there, it was actually my mother who helped us. As I was introducing us, "And I am Charis Stevens…" He suddenly perked up. "Stevens? Is Rose Stevens your mother?" I nodded, a little guarded because, well, he knew my mother. But he was quite enthusiastic, "Well, she is just a business genius. I worked on a project with her for a couple of months, our firms were working together you know, and she saved the project all by herself. Your mother is an amazing woman." I nodded slowly thinking, Well, that's new, but I didn't say it, instead opting for, "Well I'm glad she was such a help."

Then we got to the awkward part, "Well, why did you need to meet me?" I sighed and said, "I feel kind of bad about this now. We," I motioned to the silent Julia and Josh, "Are writing a summer paper, for extra credit you understand, about post traumatic stress disorder. We have most of our information, but we need to interview a person who has been through trauma. Now, this may be hard, but I understand you fiancé was killed some years ago. Can you tell us a little bit about her?" All of a sudden I saw Damien jerk out of the corner of my eye, and I smelt burnt plastic. Maggie had arrived. I turned my attention back to Lewis, who looked a little shocked, and raised my pen as if to take notes. "If this is too hard…" I said. He shook his head, like someone trying to clear it. "No. Maggie is…was, the most beautiful, kind, gentle and…just all around good person I knew. I loved her more than life itself. She didn't mind that my parents hated her and her parents didn't think I was good enough, she wanted to marry me." There was a sense of awe to his voice and look of wonderment on his face. "I loved her and she loved me back…and then she, she got hit by that car. It was so fast and there, there was nothing I could do." I could see that he was being torn apart inside, that was why he was opening up to a group of kids. "I…I miss her so much. My parents thought I should go see someone, to talk about it but, I got over it myself. And Katie helped me so much…" He trailed off and shook his head again, "I'm sorry, I guess it's still hard for me. If you can wait until tomorrow, I can get some pictures and you can speak with Katie too." Josh took over from there and I looked at what I had written.

I gave a start. I hadn't written anything, instead I had doodled a picture of someone, I guess my idea of Maggie, getting hit by a car. Lewis was standing in the background staring, looking vulnerable. I heard a sarcastic voice over my shoulder say, "Close, but it doesn't look quite like me." I kept myself from looking until we were out of the office. Then I turned and saw Maggie for the first time. She did look a little like what I had drawn, but not much. She had mousy brown hair and freckles across her nose. Her eyes were the deepest, brightest blue I had ever seen, and I could see why Lewis might have fallen in love with her, slight sickly yellow glow aside. Then suddenly her face twisted and became ugly looking, "He still loves me, and I'm not leaving him again. So don't even try." Well even angels can fall, and even a nice person has a bitchy side, excusing my French there. I saw Julie and Josh look at each other, and when I looked back, she was gone.


End file.
